Almanac

Ever since we adopted Sir Specialness, (who for blogging purposes I'll christen "Basil") I have walked him in the early morning before I go to work. Every couple of weeks Trey will take the morning walk, but 95% of the time I have been out the door with the dog at 6-ish a.m., rain, shine or snow. When we adopted Basil's sister Britta in October, the routine didn't change, but the sunrise certainly has. 6 a.m. in December is really damn different from 6 a.m. in July. Some mornings we would leave the house in that pre-dawn inkwash blue that I had always associated with desperately finishing a term paper, heading to the airport, or running out of blow. Now it's me and the dogs running across Meeker, Britta biting Basil's leash, singing the "crossing the street" song, which spontaneously emerged one day to the tune of Titannica's "Getting the Shaft Again":

Running across the street!
Running on all four fee-eeeeet
We're running! Running across the STREEEEEEEEEET!!

Some early mornings the park's black trees and indigo sky are out of a Kara Walker installation: this morning there was a full silvery moon and grey pink clouds. I keep hoping the sky will lighten earlier, but I also like the fact that the run is less crowded in the morning because of the cold. I love the dailiness of taking them out even though sometimes it makes me panicky, or they are stubborn [as in Sunday morning's adeventure: Pulling 120 Pounds of Excited Dogs Away From A Rat Carcass While Everyone Is Standing On A Fucking Sheet Of Ice! This year, spring will be the best spring ever, I'll get to watch its unfolding like Muybridge parsed the cantering horse.

Protean

I haven't gotten the "WHERE DO YOU GET YOUR PROTEEEEEIIIIINNNNNNNN" question for a long time, but am anticipating all the ignorant (well-intentioned and not-so) questions on this subject I'll get should I become pregnant in the near future. "I get my protein from the same place animals do -- Plants!! And not the rendering kind, source of much "protein concentrate" in livestock feed. Click on the link, gentle reader! Plants, people. Like, what elephants eat. The same elephants that go around killing people as revenge for culling, bad-ass strong elephants that will beat the shit out of you!"

Per most dietary guidelines, a pregnant woman needs 71 grams of protein a day. It's 1:30 pm and by my calculations, I'm up to 56 grams. Big bowl of Cheerios (2 cups, 6g total) with 2 cups soy milk (14g) and a massive bowl of lentil soup (2 cups of lentils have 36 grams of protein). A 4 oz serving of tempeh has 18-20 grams. Throw in some peanut butter and I'm way over the daily requirements. This doesn't even count the amount of protein that is in vegetables: Broccoli rabe has 17 grams of protein per bunch. This is both validating and reassuring.

A Shot In The Arm

Happy New Year! I hope yours was nice, Gentle Reader. Mine was, in part because I got the Carolina range from Agent Provocateur on sale and started the New Year off nicely. I can't decide which is my favoriter new acquisition: this underwear or the immersion blender I got for Christmas. Can I tell you how fucking amazing an immersion blender is? NO MESS! INSTANT marinades and smoothies and things! It's like being a superhero and your power is point your finger and liquefy.

I had a nice time away with my family the week of Christmas, and the dogs loved it in particular, the SMELLS! The SOUNDS!! The RIVER!! I finally played Rock Band and yes, it was fun, but it also made me miss playing with my band. The band seems to be on some kind of hiatus and I am wondering what to do with myself now. I've found myself wishing that instead of learning to knit four years ago I had learned how to play the guitar. Then the house would be full of music instead of yarn.

(Insert expected bit of wondering aloud where this blog will go and if I even want to bother with it anymore, etc etc. Will it be about vegan cooking and small dailinesses? Ranting about politics is so fucking tiresome at this point, and now that Obama is going off the rails with this Warren bullshit and Vilsack nomination I have lost all interest, not that any of it comes as any surprise, but it is disappointing nonetheless. Can you be disappointed if you aren't surprised?) There is writing I want to do but I'm not sure if it is bloggable, or blog-appropriate, or if it would instead involve starting a whole other blog project and is that the best use of my time?

I am very grateful for my job, but know that after this I need to do something new and that has meaning for me. Here are the possible options:

Become a Pilates instructor. Become a schoolteacher. Ultimately get paid to write, using a new blog as a springboard (cue visions of working from home with baby and ultimate book deal blah blah blah). The RockRidge institute is no more, so I can't work for them. And beyond all these options is another, more secret plan. TOP SECRET!

Happy New Year again!